Lullaby for a Dragon
by tripchick
Summary: Hermione can't pick a job. Charlie helps. She's spirited away to a dragon reserve in Rumania. Oops- now she's out of her element. Charlie helps. Then she wants babies- well, you get the idea. HINT: Hermione gets romantic tendencies towards Charlie Weasley
1. Supper at the Burrow

**Lullaby for a Dragon**

The Burrow was in a fluster of activity the summer after Hogwarts; Harry had achieved royal status after Voldemort's downfall, and the place was swarming with reporters keen on getting a segment in the _Prophet_, reporting important news, such as how Harry Potter liked his coffee. It was a Sunday afternoon, which meant (because of Mrs. Weasley's insistence) the house would be crowded with all of her sons, daughter, and Harry and Hermione, all anticipating a fantastic dinner in the backyard. As usual, Hermione had arrived early, and was warding the reporters off, most notably Taffy Scheirkcnoff, who had taken Rita Skeeter's place as hated reporter.

"Get off the bloody lawn!" Hermione snarled at them. She was brandishing her wand; and of course, it was no secret that Hermione Granger was quite talented with a wand.

Oh dear. That sounded _dirty_.

Taffy Scheirkcnoff was muttering to herself, "Uproar as Hermione Granger, proclaimed most talented witch of the century and steady girlfriend of Harry Potter, threatened prominent Ministry members with various curses that she is widely known to have used on Death Eaters…" Hermione gave her a dirty look, and with a flick of her wand, hexed the young reporter to go blind momentarily as Hermione shoved her off of the lawn.

"Harry needs his _privacy_, and he is _not _public property," Hermione snapped to the group of shameless journalists. "He's not even here right now."

"_Lies_," a witch dressed like Trelawny hissed.

"I'll get you for this!" A male reporter roared from the background.

Hermione sniffed at him. "I believe you said that to me _last _week, Mister Kraft."

Of course, no one was crazy enough to act on their threats. Hermione had amazing instinct, and if someone even turned a wand her way…

"Miss Granger," shouted one journalist who had not given up, desperate to reach his deadline. "Have you decided on a career yet? I hear that the Minister for Magic himself offered you a job underneath him as a personal assistant for a substantial yearly wage…"

Hermione momentarily abandoned cursing the reporters and said composedly, "I have declined the charitable proposition, and I will resume refusing employment offers from the Ministry."

"Why?" Someone shouted.

"As many know, the Ministry has been engaged in embarrassing scandals during the war effort. I do not wish to be associated with such a reputation, and nor has the Ministry regained my trust," Hermione retorted, glaring all around at them. The wizard who had asked the question was writing furiously. "Now _leave_," Hermione snapped. Pleased with having _something _to write about, the reporters began to disapparate.

A dark witch shouted through the cracks of the reporters and photographers apparating, "Are you dating Mister Potter?"

Hermione gave her a disgusted look, and with a quick wave of her wand, cursed on a pair of donkey ears to her head. "Get the bloody hell out of here before I finish the job of transfiguring you into an ass! Scoot!"

The witch scooted.

Mrs. Weasley came out the front door, and as the remaining reporters left, she smiled.

"Thank you, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley sighed, clearly relieved.

"No problem, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, smiling at her. "It's the least I can do."

"Posh," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling at the girl who she desperately wanted to be her daughter-in-law. "You get one hitched with one of my sons, all will be repaid."

Hermione turned into a nasty shade of red. "Oh, that won't be happening anytime soon, Mrs. Weasley," she said, following the plump woman into the kitchen. "I'll help you cook," Hermione added, rolling up her sleeves, and whipped out her wand before beginning on the gravy while Mrs. Weasley took on cleaning the vegetables. "Ron has been seeing that muggle girl from Canada lately- Sadie, I believe it is. He's been bragging about her to Harry all week." The two women rolled their eyes at this very Ron action.

"Yes, Ron's told me _all _about this Sadie character…" Mrs. Weasley sighed. "She sounds a bit… _wild_."

"Typical Ron," Hermione said.

"How so?" Mrs. Weasley asked mid-wash.

"Ron tends to go for the more _unruly _girls…"

As Mrs. Weasley began peeling the potatoes with a complicated wiggle of her wand, she said suggestively, "I have _other_ sons you know…"

If possible, Hermione turned even redder.

She was saved from replying to this suggestion as the door flew open, and Bill came in carrying twins in both his arms followed by a pregnant Fleur, who, if possible, was looking even more radiant than usual. "Hello Bill," Hermione said, putting down her wand as Bill greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Nice to see you again, Hermione," Bill said, smiling.

"You too, Bill," Hermione said, beaming back.

"What have you been up to?" Bill asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Charming the pants off of my brother?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "Which brother, Bill?" Hermione asked cheekily. "You've got too many of them…"

Bill just laughed and rumpled her hair.

Mrs. Weasley abandoned her peeling, and greeted her son, only to immediately begin berating him for dressing like the lead singer of a rock band instead of a father. Hermione held back a giggle as Mrs. Weasley began pointing her wand randomly at various bits of Bill, including his hair, his earring, and his boots. There was a restrained snort from behind her.

"Fleur!" Hermione said enthusiastically. "You look fantastic, as usual…"

The woman grinned at Hermione. "Pregnancy does that…" Fleur kissed Hermione on both cheeks.

Very French, indeed.

"How far along are you?" she asked, patting Fleur's bulging stomach.

"Five months," Fleur smiled.

Bill pried away from his mother, and held out one of his child-filled arms towards her, looking desperate. "Can you please take Dexter for me? My back is killing me… thanks, 'Mione…"

Hermione gladly relieved Bill of one of his children, and cradled him delicately in her arms.

"Hey handsome," Hermione cooed at the baby.

Dexter gurgled in response.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said apologetically, shifting her weight so the baby lay comfortably in her arm. "I'll have to drop out of the cooking early on…" She was cut off as Dexter's twin, Etoile, burst out crying in Bill's arms.

"That's alright, dear," she said, beaming at her grandchildren.

Mrs. Weasley thus immediately began fussing over Fleur, who was clearly relishing the attention.

"You're positively _glowing_, dear!" Mrs. Weasley beamed.

"Thank you," Fleur said. Hermione noticed that her English had improved dramatically. She supposed Bill's _lessons _had proved more helpful than they had assumed.

"What have you been craving?" Mrs. Weasley asked, sitting the French girl down, ignoring her oldest son who was now struggling with his daughter. "It's a good indicator on what the child will be like… I believe I have a book on the subject…"

Bill groaned at the mention of his wife's cravings, and Hermione suppressed a snigger.

Fleur grinned widely, and began, "Pickles with ice cream, and…"

Not keen on listening the probably lengthy list of strange foods, Hermione wiped her hands on her jeans, made her way to the living room with Dexter, and sat on the chesterfield happily, bouncing the infant in her arms. His hair was surprisingly not a Weasley red, like his father's, but a silvery blonde. Dexter was staring at her, slightly mistrustfully through his amber eyes, and was making uncomfortable gurgling noises that Hermione managed to quiet down with quiet baby talk and bouncing him on her knee. Though she would never admit it to anybody, Hermione _really_ wanted a child of her own.

Dexter closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep, and Hermione contented herself on watching him. "You're going to be as handsome as your daddy," Hermione whispered to him.

The door suddenly banged open, and all Hermione's work was undone as Dexter burst into tears.

"_Hello_?" Dexter bawled even louder at the intruder's voice.

"I'm going to _kill _the bastard…" Hermione snarled, and began making comforting cooing noises in Dexter's ear.

It was Charlie Weasley that turned out to be the perpetrator, and he was oblivious to Hermione's dirty looks as he bounded into the living room.

"Hi Hermione," he said cheerfully, dropping himself next to her, and briefly kissed her on the cheek before rumpling her hair. Charlie picked up the squirming baby, and kissed him on the forehead. "Hiya, Dexter," he added, grinning widely at the baby boy who gurgled happily in his uncle's familiar arms. "I think he likes me better," Charlie teased as Dexter's hiccups subsided.

"Are you sniffing Floo powder?" Hermione demanded playfully. "It's clear I'm the favorite."

"In your dreams Miss Granger," Charlie said.

"No, my dreams involve you and a whip," Hermione retorted, and immediately turned pink at her brazenness.

"I never knew _you _were kinky, Hermione."

Hermione forced a smirk through her mortification. "I can surprise many, Charles."

The pair rolled their eyes jointly at this usual tennis-game of wits and playful banter. Charlie returned Dexter back to Hermione's lap, and she shifted the infant in her arms so he was resting peacefully in the crook of her right arm. They sat in a comfortable silence as Dexter drifted off into an undisturbed sleep again; Hermione envied the child and his perpetual tranquility, unlike her own fitful sleeps.

"Where are Ron and Harry? I thought you lot was attached at the hip…"

"Mm," Hermione said unenthusiastically. "Ron's with his girlfriend, and Harry's meeting _his _girlfriend's father…"

Charlie wrinkled his nose. "Ron's got himself a girl?"

"You didn't know?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Clearly not," Charlie said, looking disgruntled. "Never tells me these things, the git. Well, who's the victim?"

"Some poor muggle girl," Hermione said, waving her hand carelessly.

"Really," Charlie said, looking surprised. "Odd, I thought he fancied _you_ by the way he's always picking fights with you."

Hermione laughed. "Goodness no, that was _ages _ago."

"Oh," he said intelligibly.

"Her name's Sadie," Hermione added.

He didn't seem remotely interested in this bit of information, as he continued, "And _Harry's _got a girlfriend? I didn't think he'd have the time with the entire dark wizard chasing…"

"Neither did I," Hermione established. "Luna Lovegood of all people, too…"

"Lovegood," Charlie said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Sounds familiar…"

"Her father's the editor of the _Quibbler_," Hermione said.

He looked incredulous. "I don't envy _him_," Charlie said. "Having to meet her dad… I mean, meeting a girl's dad is no picnic in the first place, but her father must be a real nutter if he runs the _Quibbler_." Charlie shook his head, and Hermione grinned widely as he expressed her exact sentiments. "Don't envy him at all…" Dexter squirmed a bit in his arms, but he quickly quieted him down.

"Don't let Harry hear you say that," Hermione smirked.

"Mm," Charlie said, smiling at Hermione. "Love makes people do crazy things…"

For some reason, Hermione's stomach jumped. Ignoring it, she slumped back into the chesterfield, and closed her eyes. She liked Charlie's company the best out of the Weasley boys. True, they had never had many chances to have a good conversation, but the few times she _had _talked to Charlie one-on-one, he was by far the most pleasant company. Hermione felt utterly comfortable with him, unlike Bill, who was so cool that he made Hermione feel ill at ease, and Percy, who was a prat and Fred or George, who both were _far_ too juvenile…

In fact, Hermione supposed the reason why she liked Charlie so much was because he was a lot like Ron.

Obviously, not as immature or temperamental.

In fact, Hermione was quite sure that she _fancied _Charlie sometimes.

_That _was completely ridiculous of course.

Charlie stared at the starry sky. Dinner had come late, due to Ron bringing his girlfriend, _Sadie_, unexpectedly, causing to scare mum out of her wits. And since Sadie had no clue her boyfriend was able to cause things (such as the apocalypse) with the wave of a stick, mum was forced to finish cooking the muggle way. Stupid Ron.

Ron's girlfriend would have to be a complete idiot not to notice all the blatant signs of wizardry about the place, though; wands laying about in the open for all to see, moving photos, books about household potion making…

"Are you _sure _you don't want more, dear?" Mum asked from across the table.

"I'm alright," Charlie said, grinning at her.

"Just let me know if you want more, then…"

He patted his stomach contently, before peering around the table. Ron was _still _stuffing his face, and completely ignoring Sadie, who had given up trying to talk to him, but was instead in a deep conversation with Luna Lovegood, which could prove disastrous- Luna didn't care much for the rules, so Charlie was sure that the Winged Kokopelli would turn up in the conversation sooner or later.

Percy was bragging loudly about his promotion to his latest girlfriend, Cassandra, who was nearly as pompous as he was. "Theorists predict that I'll be Minister for Magic come the next elections!" Percy boasted, pushing out his chest proudly. "I'll be the youngest one in a century if they prove correct- and they're usually right, you know…"

"Well _I_'m the youngest woman in history who is a qualified healer…" Cassandra shot back.

The two began to bicker about which one of them was better.

Bill had hardly eaten, but was instead trying to control his children, and Fleur was eating more than everyone else put together. Pregnant women certainly _were_ strange, he observed as Fleur poured gravy over the jell-o that was put out for dessert. His dad and mum were arguing quietly about something or another, and Harry was deep in conversation with the twins, Angelina Johnson, Fred's fiancée, listening carefully, ready to pounce if she disagreed with what they were speaking about.

He looked over to the far end, where Hermione was staring absently at the sky.

Her hair was held back into a clip, and there was a russet-colored halo surrounding her head. Luna Lovegood must have given her some tips, because like the blonde girl (who was now loudly explaining about the Crumpled-Horned Snorkack to a bewildered Sadie), her wand was tucked behind her ear. Large hoop earrings that had not been there before was dangling from her ears, and her face was free of make-up, save a little bit of pink lip gloss. Her curvy figure was clad in a striped rugby shirt, and short shorts, her small feet pushed into heeled sandals.

In Charlie's opinion, Hermione Granger was looking very attractive.

She was an enigma to Charlie, ever since he had met her the summer before her fourth year…

_The radio was blaring loudly in the kitchen when Charlie apparated to the Burrow. His boss, Mr. Plankton, was reluctant on letting Charlie take some time off that summer, but he had finally given in, and demanded a play-by-play on what happened at the quidditch world cup. The kitchen was empty, except for mum, who was (as usual) cooking up a storm, wand flying in all directions._

_"Hi mum," Charlie said, hugging his mother from behind. "Where is everyone?"_

_"Hello dear," she said distractedly, pushing a bit of hair from her weathered face. "They're all out in the yard- poor Hermione…"_

_Charlie didn't bother asking who Hermione was, as he made his way into the extensive backyard. He was unsure of what he was seeing for a moment, as there was a huge flurry of movement as soon as he became visible to his brothers. Ron, Fred and George were chasing a girl around with a snake, who was screaming bloody murder (the girl, obviously, not the snake), and Percy was shouting his portentous swollen head off from his window about bottoms, and Bill and Ginny were ignoring the whole fiasco as they played an intense game of chess._

_"Oh, come on, leave her be," Charlie said, grinning at them._

_"Hey, look!" Fred said enthusiastically. "It's Chuck!"_

_As the twins and Ron became distracted and began greeting Charlie, the girl (who Charlie guessed was Hermione) quickly distanced herself from them. She was young looking, about Ron's age, but she had an air of superiority and intelligence that hinted at a maturity beyond her years._

_"Haven't died yet, have you?" Ron asked enthusiastically, pounding his brother on the back._

_"Too bad," George supplied, and they all laughed._

_"Now," Charlie said, making his way over to the girl. "Is this anyway to treat a lady?"_

_"Charlie thinks he's a ladies man," Fred said to the girl._

_George rolled his eyes. "We were only having a bit of fun…"_

_The girl crossed her arms and gave him a dirty look, completely ignoring Charlie. "Fun?" She shrieked. "That snake was _poisonous_. It was a class five fire-spitting red-back snake, and one bite would be fatal, causing me to die a slow and most painful death. The only antidote is an un-named red plant found in _Africa_." She huffed as Ron, who was carrying the snake, immediately dropped it._

_Charlie peered at her thoughtfully. "I'm in impressed- you clearly know your magical creatures."_

_The girl- Hermione, Charlie reminded himself- looked at him, startled. "Oh- well…"_

_Fred rolled his eyes. "Hermione knows everything about everything. It gets less impressive after a while…"_

_"I doubt it." Charlie said, and offered his hand to her. "Charlie Weasley."_

_"Hermione Granger," she said, taking his hand._

_Charlie had a good change to look at Hermione now- her cheeks were flushed, but that didn't cover the liberal sprinkle of freckles on her nose. Her hair was brown and bushy, and it framed her thin make-up-less face. She had already developed a dark tan, making her look out of place with the army of speckled, pale Weasleys. Her long limbs were wiry and hips were wide- all of this was covered in an extra large t-shirt and rolled-up jeans. Underneath her long bangs and sweeping eyelashes, her brown eyes were flashing in perpetual thought._

_Her hands were smooth and tan under his calloused and freckled ones._

_"I think you're crushing her fingers…" Ron said._

_Charlie quickly let go of her hand, and to cover his utter horror at checking out a girl seven years younger then himself, he looked up at the window where Percy was still hollering from, and roared, quite rudely, "Shut the bloody hell up, Perce, before I go up there and shove that report of yours up your-_

"Charlie!"

He jerked up from his reverie. "Yes?" Charlie asked stupidly, tearing his eyes away from Hermione, who was _bound _to notice the second oldest Weasley ogling her like she was a bit of meat and he hadn't eaten for months. He felt himself turn red at the neck.

"Yes, mum?" Charlie asked in his most calm tone of voice.

She sighed, exasperated. "You're clearly somewhere else, so I'll excuse you from helping me with the dishes tonight…"

He smiled, and was immensely relieved to feel the blush die down. "Thanks mum."

"And dear," she said, smirking at him, and leaning towards him. "Good luck with Hermione Granger- she's quite the catch."

Just as he thought he had his reddening face under control, he turned a nasty shade of crimson, spluttered for a bit, and then quickly excused himself from the table. Bill was looking at him curiously, and Charlie knew he was going to suck it out of him before the night ended. Thank goodness no one had seen mum completely embarrass him. _Wait_- Charlie took that back. Hermione was staring at him with a confused look crossing her delicate features.

Bollocks.

Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets and slouched into the house as Sadie was commending mum on her fantastic cooking. Unfortunately, cooking was the only thing she was remotely good at. She failed at everything else.

Her mother's intuition was dead, for one. Fancy _Hermione _for Merlin's sake.

Sure, he thought Hermione was very pretty. He thought _Fleur _was very pretty as well, but that didn't necessarily mean he fancied _her_, now did he? And yes, he thought she was very intelligent, of course, but that was an _understatement_. The girl's been compared to Merlin himself. See? Just because he thought Hermione Granger was attractive and smart, did _not _mean he wanted to snog her. Or do anything to her, now that he thought about it.

Not to mention he knew the girl hardly enough in the first place to fancy her.

Charlie looked at her from the kitchen window that faced the backyard.

Who was he kidding?

He was _completely_ smitten with a seventeen-year-old genius.

Bad. So bad. I don't know what made my write this rubbish, but it's one of my worst. It must be bad; I scribbled it up in an hour. Oh well. I was bound to write something this ridiculous. But my muse is working overtime right now, so I have to start spitting out stories before I have lost inspiration completely. But that still doesn't excuse this pile of crap. Bad. So bad. Stupid. I'm so dumb. I'm going to kill my muse, I will. And I _know _someone's going to jump up my ass saying "Why are Hermione and Charlie _friends_?" Well, they're not friends _really_, more like acquaintances. It'll all be explained in the next chapter.

Review, anyway.


	2. Propositions over Breakfast

**A/N:** I can't believe fanfiction is doing this to me! No more paragraph indentations my _ass_.

On a happier note, I'm pleased that people actually liked "_Lullaby for a Dragon_" enough to actually ask me to continue. I'm still a little skeptical about how well I can write this story (I want it to be the best it can, since I'm in love with this idea so much), but I'm a romantic at heart and nothing could possibly stop me from writing a story that incorporates both adventure and romance. Thanks to **jenny, AlabamaBabe, DazedPanda, vizchelle, RissaAngel, freespirit65, Me, RaineCrazy, CoupeLaFromage and Rose 101**. Anyway, sorry it took so long to update, I was on vacation…

* * *

Unfortunately for Charlie, Bill was the most perceptive person in England. It was also unfortunate that Bill had absolutely _no_ common sense, and seemed to want to talk to Charlie about his psychological illnesses in the middle of the night while he was cradling two infants in each of his arms and his mother was reading a book on pregnancy cravings with his wife. "We need to talk," Bill said determinedly, cornering Charlie the twins' old room. "_Now,_" he added, as Charlie waved him off, rolling over in an attempt to go to sleep and avoid the inevitable speech about fancying your younger brother's best mate.

Bill prodded Charlie in the back firmly.

"What is it?" Charlie asked, sitting upright and scratching his head as Bill turned on a light.

"You, Charlie Weasley, are an _idiot_," Bill said.

Charlie blinked. "_What_?"

"You fancy Hermione," Bill said.

"You're mad," Charlie said, refusing to look Bill in the face. "You're off the bleeding wall."

Rolling his eyes, Bill said, "Funny, I could say the same thing about you."

"Where the hell do you get these notions?"

Bill clucked his tongue impatiently. "You have got to be joking if you think I didn't notice you ogling Hermione like she was a bit of meat…"

"She _is _a bit of meat," Charlie said reasonably, "_about 125 pounds of it_."

"She's seven years younger than you, you know."

"You _are_ mad." Charlie muttered. He began looking for forms of escape. If he decided to jump out of the window, he would fall to a most painful and bloody death, but that was worth the chance. Then again, if he just ran he doubted his older brother, who tripped over his own feet, could catch up to him while carrying two squirming children. On the other hand, Bill was dead fast with a wand- damn curse-breaker…

"Charlie," Bill said sharply. "Tell me the truth."

He looked up at his brother, and he immediately regretted it as usual. Bill was looking so _damn brotherly_ (a guise he has perfected) that the words were out of Charlie's mouth before he could stop them… "So what if I like her?" Charlie asked impatiently. "It's not like I'm going to try anything you know; and _please_, no need for the sex talk like the time I dated that Russian girl- bloody embarrassing, that was…" and at the look on Bill's face, Charlie added exasperatedly, "for Christ's sake, get your mind out of the gutter- I'm not planning on _doing_ anything with Hermione, idiot."

Bill looked at him reprovingly. "Just… don't hurt her. Ron will kill you."

"I know," Charlie said.

"Mum will kill you, too, come to think of it," Bill said. "Wants her to be a member of the family more than anything…"

"Yes, _I know_…"

Bill scratched his chin. "And you'd have to look out for Ginny and the twins…"

"Will probably curse me into something unrecognizable," Charlie agreed sleepily.

"And of course, I'll have to kill you myself…" Bill added thoughtfully.

"Shut up before I stun you into oblivion…"

"Shutting," Bill said.

* * *

_Hermione was in a row with Ron _again_. Ron was on about Viktor Krum _again_ and she was puzzled as to why he held such a grudge against the International quidditch player. Ron had been incapable of stringing a single sentence together, merely spluttering obscenities as Hermione shot him foul looks, hating him. "Absolutely- rubbish-" It was taking some time for Ron to simply get out a full blown sentence, and Hermione had occupied herself with studying her nails instead of listening to the sixteen-year-old try to speak English. "I love you," Ron finally cried in frustration, scarlet in the face._

_And, of course, like an idiot, Hermione had gotten _mad_ at him._

_Swearing at the mirror in the bedroom she shared with Ginny at the Order Headquarters ("Really!" the mirror had replied, scandalized at her unexpected use of colorful language), Hermione stomped out of the room, not keen on spending the rest of her life in hiding. She was intent on hunting Ron down like an animal and shouting at him some more so they could finally make amends- and perhaps he'd finally ask her out on a proper date._

_"Stupid Ron..."_

_"Hullo Hermione," someone said from the kitchen as she was passing in a rage._

_Popping her head into the room impatiently, Hermione immediately recognized Charlie's densely speckle, good-natured face smiling at her slightly from where he was seated at the long wooden table. He was holding a steaming mug in his left hand which was halfway towards his mouth, and his right hand was supporting his head, which looked like it would rather do nothing but fall face-first into the table for a pleasantly long slumber._

_"Charlie- what are you doing here?"_

_Charlie said, "My boss is finally letting me on a bit of a reprieve…"_

_"That's nice," Hermione said absently. "Have you seen Ron?"_

_"Sulking in his room," Charlie snorted. "I heard about your quarrel with him. Ron was probably being a great big prat again, but don't worry; he'll get over himself soon." He nodded knowingly, and Hermione stifled a snort at his attempt to looking superior- which actually looked more like he had something up his nose. None-the-less, it was rather cute._

_Hermione nodded. "I know- I'm usually fighting with him."_

_"Figures," Charlie said. "Anyway, I wouldn't disturb him in the middle of his suicidal state right now."_

_"If he doesn't kill himself, I'll do it for him."_

_"There are others who would gladly do it for you," Charlie said, grinning broadly. "Come, have some coffee with me; I'm bored out of my mind here. Bill's gone off shopping for a wedding dress with Fleur and the twins are up to something again with Mundungus…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh and say 'yes'._

_Hermione made her way into the kitchen and Charlie quickly produced a second cup of coffee with a swish of his wand._

_"So, what year are you going into?"_

_"Sixth," Hermione said._

_Charlie studied her over his coffee. "Ron keeps bragging about what a brilliant witch you are- first in your year, right?"_

_Hermione blushed. "Well..."_

_"You must have got your O.W.L.s already," Charlie said. "What's the verdict?"_

Er_- thirteen..."_

_Charlie positively choked on his spit. "Is that even possible?"_

_"Well, I'm taking quite a bit of courses-"_

* * *

"Stop daydreaming, Hermione," Ginny said.

Hermione looked up from her reverie, and she quickly finished changing into her flower-printed nightdress. She was a little too old for sleepovers, but it was quite a bit of fun, and Mrs. Weasley _had _insisted that she spend the night. "Sorry Ginny," Hermione sighed dramatically. "I didn't know it was prohibited to use your _brain_ when inside of your bedroom…" Ginny immediately retaliated by pinching her counterpart on the arm.

"Luna is staying as well," Ginny warned. "She's at her house getting her things. Be on your best behavior."

Hermione jumped onto Ginny's bed. "Will she act _normal_?"

"She's more normal than she was two years ago," Ginny shrugged.

"Oh, _that's_ reassuring."

Ginny poked her tongue out, and dressed into her nightdress as well. "I think she's sweet."

"She is," Hermione agreed, "but I can't seem to stop getting into arguments about all those unconventional creatures she rambles on about…"

"Just ignore her when she gets on about them."

Hermione snorted. "That'd be rather difficult. You know how I have the uncontrollable tendency to correct her on everything..."

"She's turned out to be right on a few of those things," Ginny said.

"_Don't remind me_."

There was a knock at the door, and they both quickly shot each other an anxious look. If it was Luna, she probably wouldn't mention it if she had heard, but the two couldn't help but feel a guilty twitch in the pit of their stomachs as Hermione rolled off the bed to open the door. But it was thankfully- or unfortunately; Hermione couldn't make up her mind at the moment- not Luna (or Harry, who would probably murder them both if he heard them talking like that about '_the girl he loved_').

Instead, it was only Charlie smirking. "Now, what if I was poor Luna and just heard you saying all that about me?"

"_Charlie_," Ginny shrieked from behind Hermione, "Get the bloody hell out of here!"

"No need to be _rude_, Ginny," Charlie said.

"You're going to scare all my friends away," Ginny moaned, pushing her brother out of her room.

"Really, now," Charlie said. "I always thought I was rather good-looking-"

"Out, before I put the Bat-Bogey Hex on you!"

Charlie, looking sincerely terrified, ran out of the room quickly, only pausing to say, grinning broadly, "Lovely nightie, Hermione. Absolutely smashing," he said before running off, leaving a furious Ginny and a slightly pink Hermione in his stead. Hermione looked down at her sheer nightdress, and groaned, "Ginny, your brother saw me half-naked…"

"Well," Ginny said apologetically, "that's to be expected if you stay at a house with six boys…"

"Bugger," Hermione said.

"Hello Hermione," a dreamy voice came from the doorway. "Hello Ginny- was that your second oldest brother running down the hall like he was being chased by a herd of rampaging Kokopellies who had just been offered a cup of tea during the New moon?" Hermione and Ginny shared a look, completely befuddled. "He looked rather frightened."

"_Er_, yes, Luna, that was Charlie," Hermione said restrainedly.

"Hi Luna," Ginny said enthusiastically, pulling the girl into the room and locking the door behind her with the flick of her wand. She turned and gave them a wicked grin.

Hermione already could tell this was going to be a bad idea.

* * *

"I feel like a scarlet woman," Hermione said grumpily the next morning. Her hair had been tugged, pulled and twisted the night before into wild curls that were flattened on one side after a night's sleep. Ginny had insisted on painting her nails with a lurid red, but Hermione threatened the girl to stop with a well-placed curse before she had the chance to attack her with make-up. Sadly, as soon as Hermione had fallen asleep Ginny had applied pounds of paint and powder on her face. Hermione thought that, in short, she looked like a circus freak.

Luna wasn't much better off. The poor girl was poking at her eggs moodily as Harry laughed hysterically at her ridiculous hair-do and haphazardly applied make-up (Luna hadn't gone down without a struggle- unfortunately, unlike Hermione and Ginny, who had her seventeenth birthday a couple weeks before, she was still forbidden to do magic during the holidays). "Don't be so cross, Hermione," Ginny said, grinning. "I think you look enchanting."

"Yes, Ginny, as enchanting as a transvestite circus clown." Hermione snapped.

"You're hair's tame," Ginny said hopefully.

"Not only is it frizzy," Hermione said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler, "it's in _ringlets_."

Mrs. Weasley looked over the frying pan and smiled at Hermione. "You look lovely no matter what, Hermione."

It was a very motherly thing to say, but it didn't stop the dirty looks Hermione was shooting Ginny. She fingered her wand lovingly, and scratched her nose, wondering which hex would suffice in getting her utter revenge. 'I _hate you_,' Hermione mouthed, but her friend merely smiled good-naturedly. Luna was furiously trying to rub the pounds of make-up that had been forced onto her face.

"Great Merlin, what happened to you two?"

Hermione looked up to the confused face of Charlie. "Good to see you, too," Hermione snarled.

"_Touche_," Charlie said.

"I hate your sister," Luna said to him miserably, her dreamy facade momentarily missing.

Snorting, Harry said, "Ginny went ape on them."

"Lovely," he laughed. "I remember when she did that to Ron…"

He soon had Harry and Hermione's rapt attention, waiting for a full description of Ron's powdered and painted face. This moment was, unfortunately, interrupted as twenty owls began fighting for space to force their respective letters through the tiny window. Charlie jumped up. "What the bloody hell-"

Hermione already knew what it was; job offers from every possible employer in the country.

True enough, after each of the owls had made their way in and dropped of their respective thick letters, Hermione had a tall pile of job offers, and the Prophet, which featured a picture of her under the headline, _'Granger scorns the Ministry_'. "Honestly," Hermione said, taking a sip of coffee and ignoring the incredulous looks from Charlie and Mrs. Weasley.

"What are these?" Charlie asked.

"Job offers," Hermione said simply, ripping open the first one. "Bloody hell, St. Mungo's is begging me _again_…" she tossed that one to the side.

Harry had taken to reading the Prophet article about Hermione refusing jobs at the Ministry. "Really, Hermione, you're a celebrity," Harry said, mystified. "Were you really offered a job by the Minister for Magic?" Hermione nodded as she ripped open the next one. "I can't believe you've refused a six-figure job at the Ministry- what sort of career are you _looking_ for?"

"Oh, well…" Hermione said, tossing a letter from the Prophet to the side. "After all the stuff we did at school… everything seems a little too dull for me."

Luna looked at Hermione seriously. "Well, that makes sense."

Sadly though, Ginny was positively choking on her coffee as Hermione said this.

"You're joking, right?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head as she tossed a letter from Muggle Relations to the side.

"You can always apply for a position as an Auror," Harry said hopefully. "Lots of excitement _there_…"

"It's still a Ministry job," Hermione said tiredly, reading a new letter. She immediately choked as she read the first sentence. "Everyone must have gone mad," Hermione said, looking mystified. "I've been asked to play for the Ballycastle Bats, and I can't even go near a broom without feeling nauseous…"

"Don't remind me," a voice suddenly said from the kitchen door.

They all yawned a "hullo" to Ron as he made his way to the table, and sat in between Hermione and Ginny, and, squinting at his toast, began to spread some jam on it. Poor Ron had never quite gotten over the time he forced Hermione onto a broom and was immediately spewed all over.

"You'd better accept one of these soon, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley warned. "You don't want to end up doing something useless with your life…"

Hermione looked at her thoughtfully. "Actually, I've been thinking about continuing _SPEW_…"

"No, Hermione," Harry said exasperatedly.

Charlie looked confused. "What's-" Harry shook his head desperately, and Charlie quickly shut up.

"She said don't do something _useless_," Ginny said to Hermione.

"SPEW _is _useful," Hermione said, appalled.

"I think SPEW is a _brilliant_ idea," Luna said dreamily from her seat.

They all looked at Luna, and Hermione quickly said, "Well, maybe SPEW isn't the best course of action for supporting me…" Unbeknownst to Hermione, Harry shot Luna a thankful look, who smiled slightly in return. "But I've got to think of a job soon, or else all the jobs will be gone," Hermione sighed.

Rolling his eyes, Charlie said, "I wouldn't worry about that; I'm betting that plenty of employers are willing to fire _all_ their workers just to get _you_ to work for them."

Hermione turned pink at the compliment. "My parents are expecting me to move out shortly, so I had better accept one in the next week…"

Ron ogled her. "That's _outrageous_! Bill didn't get a flat of his own until he turned twenty-five!"

"Just because you plan on spending the rest of your life in your mother's basement, doesn't mean _I_ do," Hermione said.

Mrs. Weasley glared at her youngest son beadily. "You'd better not, Ronald Weasley, or I'm kicking you out of this house myself!"

"See what you've done?" Ron snapped at Hermione.

Harry interrupted and said, "Ron, no offense, but you cause twice the damage as Hermione…"

"For example," Charlie supplied, "Bill had to _Obliviate_ Sadie last night, poor girl…"

"Why don't you work abroad somewhere?" Luna asked pensively. "That ought to be plenty adventurous…"

Ginny looked up from her pancakes brightly. "That doesn't sound so bad; you _love_ to travel, Hermione!"

Hermione stared at the blonde girl, wondering if she should admit that Luna's suggestion was a stroke of genius. "That sounds good," Hermione said seriously. Luna smiled.

Ron glared at her, the bit of toast he was demolishing half-way to his lips. "You can't mean _Bulgaria_. Anyway, how would we be able to keep an eye on you if you prance off to another country?"

"I'm not a _baby_, Ronald," Hermione snapped.

Completely ignoring what she said, Ron continued, "There is _no way_ I'm letting you out of the country on your own-"

"I'm a big girl, Ron," she snapped impatiently. "I can take care of myself."

"You're not going anywhere-" Ron began heatedly through a mouthful of toast.

And to Hermione's immense surprise, Charlie suddenly said, "How does Romania sound?"

Ron began to choke on his food.

"Romania?" Hermione asked interestedly.

Glaring at her, Ron said, "Isn't that near _Bulgaria_...?"

"_Why _are you still sore about Viktor," Hermione snapped. "I _told _you we're just friends!"

"Old habits die hard-"

Completely ignoring his youngest brother, Charlie continued, "Since Ron's an over-protective prat, you'll have me to look after you, and working at the dragon reserve is hardly dull... of course, you may feel a bit out of place with all the hands-on stuff, but I'll help you out in that department. It's quite a beautiful country actually, lots of tourist attractions, and," he said suggestively, "_Plenty of Romanian wizarding history- _cripes, what a display of history at its best!" His eyes glazed over for a moment.

"Hermione doesn't want to work with dragons," Ron snapped. "Do you, Hermione?"

"Who said that?" Hermione retorted.

Luna looked up from her seat dreamily. "I think it's a brilliant idea..."

Then the most astonishing thing happened.

Hermione said "I'd _love_ to work in Romania."

* * *

Charlie was still in a state of shock. He was helping Hermione fill out an application form (Mr. Plankton nearly peed himself with excitement when Charlie asked him for an application for Hermione Granger, and then immediately gave him a raise), and he still couldn't believe he had the gall to ask Hermione to work at the dragon reserve. Even worse, she had accepted, and he was going to be forced to see her _every day_… He felt slightly sick at the thought- he felt like he was on a rollercoaster when she was around- not to mention he tended to act _oddly_. He flinched slightly as he remembered buttering his glass of pumpkin juice that morning- an after effect of Hermione accepting his proposition. Harry had stared at him rather strangely for some reason.

"This application form seems rather short..." Hermione said.

Charlie shrugged. "Wait till you get to the medical history application..."

She looked at him worriedly. "Do people get hurt often?"

"Of course," Charlie said. "But no one's been killed in years..."

"Oh," Hermione said dumbly, unsure what to say to such news.

"Question number twenty-two," Charlie yawned. "Which sect would you like to work in?"

Hermione massaged her temples. "_Meaning_…?"

"Well," Charlie started, "you can work in the Dragon Waste Removal Sect- that speaks for itself, no one in their right minds would choose that. It's mostly for those who have been fired by their current sect but don't want to leave the reserve…" Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Then there's the Harvest and Memorial sect, so you're mostly dealing with dead dragons- I wouldn't work there if I were you- you need a strong stomach to deal with disassembling dragons, grinding the bones, draining the blood, skinning…" he scratched his nose thoughtfully. "Then there's the Dragon Co-op and Control sect- I work there, but it doesn't seem like your type of work. Next is the Dragon Registry and Naming sect- it's very dull office work-"

"I can work there," Hermione said quickly.

Charlie laughed. "Trust me- I did it my first year, and it was duller than sitting through a first year's lesson of History of Magic…"

"Then what am I going to do? _Cook_, will I?" Hermione asked.

Rolling his eyes, Charlie said, "Well, you can work in the Dragon's sanctuary…"

"What's that?"

"After a group of dragon's are born, there's usually one or two of the newborns that are rejected by its mother- the mother refuses to take care of it, so the dragon is taken to the Dragon Sanctuary, where the witches and wizards in that division nurture them and help raise them into full-growns… the workers in that sect seem to get rather attached to the dragons that pass through the Sanctuary. In fact, I think that might be best for you, Hermione. The Dragon Sanctuary is always needing more research done to make the nurturing of the dragons there as complete and natural as possible, and I hear you're damn good at that…"

Hermione flushed at the unexpected comment.

"I'd love to work there- sounds fascinating," Hermione said.

Charlie nodded his approval. "_Excellent_! Now, question twenty-three…"

Hermione peeked at the paper. "Who would you like to be your mentor?"

As Charlie checked off 'Dragon Sanctuary' under question twenty-two, the names under question twenty-three began to melt into each other and change into a slightly shorter and different list of names. Hermione's eyes brightened and she said enthusiastically, "Say, that's quite a cool bit of magic- do you know the spell-"

"_Hermione_," Charlie sighed.

"Oh, all right," Hermione pouted, looking down the list of mentors, their credentials and '_fun facts_'.

"Don't choose Kaida- she's got a temper like you wouldn't believe," Charlie said. "No one lives through her training."

Hermione scoffed. "Oh, she can't be that bad."

"She is," Charlie said seriously. "Even my boss is terrified of her."

Hermione said, "What about this Lucien character? Credentials seem very good, and he's been working there for- _cripes_, fourteen years!"

"_No_," Charlie said. "He doesn't speak English- you'd never learn a thing."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Who do you suggest?"

Charlie picked up the list and studied it closely, murmuring to himself things like "horny bastard" and "tried to set Cheveyvo on me as a joke… still have the burns…"

And meanwhile, Hermione was silently getting progressively nervous. "Is _everyone_ at the reserve as bad as you say?"

He looked at her, startled. "Goodness no- they're all _fantastic_! They just enjoy picking on me, is all… you'll be fine with them."

"If you're sure…"

"Of course I am," Charlie said firmly. "Anyway, I think you should choose Saffron as your mentor- she's a friend of mine, and I think you'll get along well with her. Her credentials aren't mind-blowing, but she's been at the reserve for six years, and she has yet to send me to the hospital department like the rest of them have…"

"All right," Hermione said, checking off the name on the list. "_Next_…"

"Question twenty-four…" Charlie yawned. "Your, _uh,_ sexual history…"

There was a long silence as Hermione steadily turned redder and redder in the face.

"_Charlie_, you made that up!" Hermione shrieked, suppressing a grin as Charlie _laughed_ and _laughed_ and _laughed_…

* * *

**A/N**: I hate second chapters; they're so bloody difficult write… 


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